


Odd

by princelogical



Series: The Human!Sides College AU Verse [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Car Wrecks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Logan doesn't like to talk about his freshman year.





	Odd

**August of 2014**

Logan made his way through the narrow doorway, holding a small box tightly within his arms. His mother and father trailed behind him, chattering loudly and excitedly. Logan wasn’t even pretending to be listening at that moment as his roommate rushed over to greet him.

“Hi! I’m Patton; I’m really sorry the room is kind of messy. It was really short notice.”

“The room is perfectly satisfactory,” Logan said. “I apologize for the short notice. I understand why it might have caused such frustration.”

Logan’s parents finally silenced themselves. He swore he could feel his mother’s annoyance rolling off her in waves. _Too stiff, Logan_ she’d say. _That’s not how you talk to people._

Patton blinked a little in what Logan was assuming was surprise. However, he didn’t make any comment on Logan’s formal tone at all. He just went on, saying, “That’s perfectly fine! Not like you can help it. So, I have this bed!” He patted the bed with a running laptop on it. The laptop tilted dangerously with the movement. “But if you want it, you can have it! I’m not picky, kiddo.”

Logan reeled back. “K-kiddo?” he asked.

“Just a little something I like to call everyone!” Patton said, grinning widely. “You okay with your bed?”

“Yes. Thank you… Patton.”

Logan sat the box down onto his bed, careful not to crinkle the covers too much. His mom crossed her arms and sniffed. “Well, it’s not Harvard, but it’s not too bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan mumbled.

“Of course you are, sweetheart.” His mom kissed his forehead. “We’re rooting for you!” she said with a false red-lipstick grin.

Logan smiled. “Thanks.”

“In a couple years you’ll be able to transfer!”

“Yeah,” Logan mumbled.

“Good luck,” his dad said. He wasn’t smiling like his mom; at least he didn’t feel as much of a need to put on a show.

“Bye, honey! I’ll call you when we get home.”

“Bye,” Logan said.

His mom waved and the two filed out of the room. Patton was watching the two with a look of confusion on his face. “Need any help unpacking?” Patton asked.

“No thank you. It is kind of you to ask though,” Logan said, sitting down stiffly beside his box and gently pulling the tape off. He wanted desperately to come across as normal and nice to his new roommate, but he also wished Patton would go away so he could get set up.

“Is that all of your stuff?”

“Yes. I don’t have many material things that I am emotionally attached to.”

“Ah,” Patton said. He sat down on his own bed, crossing his legs. “You can decorate your side as much as you want. And if you want more room, you just have to ask!”

“I appreciate that, thank you. However, I’m not much for decorating.”

“No?”

“Not really. I prefer a neat and organized space.”

“It can always be organized and clean while still being decorated!” Patton said with a smile.

Logan smiled softly. “Perhaps. Do you happen to know where the nearest coffee shop is?”

“They have a 24 hour café downstairs.”

“Thank you.”

*-*

Logan didn’t consider himself antisocial; perhaps asocial, but that was it. The week of the 11th consisted of social gatherings, students meeting up, and overall just getting to know each other. Logan stayed in his room sketching out his planner full of assignments and exams. When he wasn’t doing that, he was refreshing his email, waiting for any instructions. And then when he wasn’t doing that, he was on the phone listening to his mom lecture him on everything from the “low-life” (her words), job he’d gotten at the shopping center to that he hadn’t yet started looking for another college.

Patton tried so very hard to befriend him and Logan felt terrible for brushing him off so much, so he’d allow Patton to sit and babble endlessly about meaningless things. Logan didn’t mind the chatter so much; it reminded him of an actual classroom.

Then the 18th came around way too fast and suddenly, it was the first day of school and Logan made sure he woke up extra early to make sure everything was ready for him to start his day. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before due to nerves so he drank two cups of black coffee and made his way to class, Patton still fast asleep in his bed.

By the end of the day, he had a decent pile of projects, which he got to work on immediately. He fell asleep at precisely 11:00 o’clock. It felt like a good day, accomplishing everything on time and doing them well.

The next day was the same, but by the end of class his phone was ringing out of his pocket with over 30 missed calls from his mother demanding to know how things were going, how many extracurriculars he was taking, and if he’d started checking out other campuses yet. He called her back listened to the hour-long lecture about making sure he was serious about this; it was his life they were talking about.

He was so exhausted when he got back to the dorm, he set aside his pile of projects and swore he’d complete them the next day and crashed in bed, Patton staring worriedly at him the whole time. Logan didn’t understand his roommate’s worry; sure, the two got along, but they were by no means friends and Logan didn’t worry too much about Patton. So why did Patton look like he genuinely cared about Logan’s wellbeing.

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of classes, papers, and stress. Before Logan was even aware of what he was doing, he was staying up late, trying to complete assignments and soothe his mom’s anxieties about his course work and the one B in his least favourite class (art). Then he was waking up as early as possible to make it to class. Soon enough, Logan grew accustomed to chugging coffee and energy drinks like vital medication and he grew used to the shakes that he felt shooting through his skin.

Midterms hit and they hit hard. Logan studied constantly and rarely took breaks to eat or sleep. Patton would come back from work or class with a bag from a local sandwich shop that Logan adored and practically force Logan to stop by physically shutting the textbooks on Logan. Then he’d hand him the bag and casually ask Logan about his day while staring worriedly as Logan picked tiredly at his food.

In a blink of an eye, it was the day of his quantum physics exam and he’d stayed up for almost sixty hours. His heart felt like it was going to jump of his own chest with its constant rapid beating. With trembling fingers he buttoned his shirt, staring off into space. Patton was gone, likely at work or… or classes? Maybe. Logan couldn’t quite recall.

His phone rang and Logan jumped backward in surprise. His heart beat harder and he shakily answered the phone with a, “Hello?”

“Logan.”

“Oh. Hello mother.”

“I emailed you an updated document about the big college fair next week,” she said briskly. “I’m late for work, so I don’t have much time to chat. How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said. “I have to complete an exam after I go grab breakfast. I’ll call you later.”

“Logan! Don’t you dare hang up on me! What exam? Wh-” _click._

Logan grabbed his coffee with trembling hands and made his way to his car. _Even after 24 hours without sleep, your cognitive ability-_ He’ll be fine. He sat in the seat and started the ignition, pulling out of the parking lot. His hands don’t stop trembling. He blinked. He blinked again. Was he moving? Wait- had he even hit the gas?

Yes- he had. He was going down the road- God, he was going too fast. Wasn’t he? His eyes shifted to the speedometer; 60mph. Wasn’t he in a 45 lane?

Logan blinked again; his body felt heavy. He wasn’t sure he was even driving on the road anymore. Then, blackness.

_*-*_

Everything smelled like gasoline and something metallic. Logan blinked; he felt more awake than he had in weeks. With a start, he realized why;

He was lying in the dirt, a pool of blood beside his head. His car was a few feet away from him, smashed into a thick tree. The windshield was coated in blood and completely shattered except on the passenger side, which was miraculously slightly put together. The car was smoking, reaching high up in the air.

Every muscle in Logan’s body trembled. Nothing hurt; was that because of adrenaline? Or shock? Logan couldn’t recall. He pushed himself up by the heels of his hands and with a startled yelp, his left arm screamed in mind-numbing pain. He bit his trembling lip and used his right arm to reach in his pocket and pull out his phone from his pocket, which, to his disgust, was soaked in blood.

The phone screen was completely shattered, but he fortunately could still yet power the screen on. He hit his recent received calls and scrolled through a long list of his mother’s contact information until he made it to an unknown contact from way back at the beginning of August.

He stood up as he dialed the number and placed it to his ear. His legs buckled and he quickly fumbled to lean up against the tree. The smell of gasoline was strong against Logan’s heightened senses and he wished he could plug his nose, but only his right arm could work without causing him horrible pain at that moment.

“Hello?” a voice said, coming through the phone in a muffled way through his ears.

“Hello. Who have I reached?”

“Patton! Is this Logan?”

“Yes.”

He could almost hear Patton smile through the phone. “Awesome! I gotta say though, you’ve never called me before. And aren’t you in class right now?”

“No, I did not make it.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to chat with you, I’m at work right now and we’re pretty busy, kiddo. But if I can call you-”

“Can you pick me up?”

“Huh?” Patton asked.

Logan cleared his throat and leaned heavier onto the tree. “I am in a position where I need to be picked up.”

Several seconds of silence passed and then Patton said, “Logan, what do you mean?” with confusion thick in his voice.

“I am-” Logan looked around him and to the speed limit sign by the road over fifty feet away. He realized his glasses weren’t on and he could barely make out the words of the sign. “I believe I am beside a road on the way to the sandwich shop. It’s right of W-”

“What?” Patton asked, the confusion in his voice growing.

Logan felt his throat constrict. What if he was wrong? What if he died and no one found him; he wouldn’t be missed. It’d be days before his body was found in the dirt beside that stupid backroad that nearly no one drove down.

“I wrecked my car,” he said. “And I don’t know where I am.” He felt his chest begin to heave and he felt tears pricking at his eyes. “I have no idea where I am or what happened.”

“Oh no- Logan? Logan? Call the police, okay?”

“What’s the number for the police?”

Patton sounded like he’d let out a sob. “911, kiddo. Do that right now. Then call me back. I’m hanging up. I love you.”

Logan pulled the phone from his ear and saw the end of call screen on his shattered phone. With trembling fingers, he dialed 911. The dispatcher talked him through giving out where he was, what his injuries were, etc.  

He was tired again. The dispatcher was asking him about what kind of pain was in his arm, but he didn’t answer, for he dropped the phone on the floor. He collapsed against the tree, closing his eyes, wishing he had the energy to pick up the phone.

*-*

Logan didn’t call Patton back. He was stuck in the hospital for three days, undergoing several different tests. They worried he’d suffered serious brain damage since he’d passed out twice at the scene. The doctors were calling him a miracle; he’d suffered a skull fracture, several gashes in his thighs and neck that required stitches, and a broken left arm. But no permanent brain damage or fatal injuries. He was given pain-killers, a cast, and a massive medical bill and then released with several excused absence notes for his professors.

His car was completely, irreplaceably totaled. His mom only found out about it once his insurance kicked in, sending notices on his account that his mom had access too. She didn’t ask how Logan was; she just screamed into his ruined phone about how irresponsible and stupid and reckless he was. Then she sobbed, screaming that he would be the one paying all the bills and insurance. She finished off by telling him to make sure that he contacted his professors right away, otherwise he’d never catch up on his course work.

He made his way up to his dorm, feeling completely numb. He had never, in his entire life, felt so emotional and scared and confused. He opened the door to the dorm to see Patton sitting on his bed, talking into his phone.

Patton looked up, gaping. He told whoever it was on the phone that he had to go and set his phone down and stood up.

“Logan, oh my God.”

“I apologize for not contacting you. It was unfair to worry you.”

Patton’s eyes were wide and wet with tears. “What happened?”

“I ruined my car,” Logan explained. “I fell asleep at the wheel, which was a very destructive and irresponsible move. The car drove off the road until it hit a tree. The front was entirely stripped,” Patton stared at Logan as if he had grown a second head, “and the motor suffered-”

“Logan, kiddo,” Patton’s voice was gentle and soft and sad all at once, “I don’t want to know about the stupid car. I want to know about you.”

“Oh, of course.” Logan shifted the stack of withdraw papers in his right hand. “I have a fractured skull, the fracture being pretty minor. It should heal within-”

“Logan!” Patton said. “Sit down.”

Logan frowned and sat down on his bed. Patton remained standing, eyeing Logan with a saddened expression.

“I want to know how you’re doing. Not the mechanics of the situation.”

“Oh.” Logan stared blankly. “I don’t know how to do that. I am not good at… emotional explanations.”

“It doesn’t have to be super emotional,” Patton explained. “Just… tell me how you feel right now.”

“I’m really tired.”

“Makes sense,” Patton said.

“I don’t have a way to work anymore. I can’t afford a new car.”

Patton smiled softly. “I’ll drive you to work.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I appreciate that,” Logan said; he did and he wished he could express that better. “You told me you loved me. On the phone.”

Patton looked surprised. “Yes, I did.”

“Statistically speaking, male friends do not typically exchange such words of endearment with one another,” Logan said.

“Guess I’m not typical then,” Patton said with a laugh. Tears still shone in his eyes.

“Not many people have told me they love me,” Logan said. “It felt… odd. I feel odd right now.”

Patton stared, as if piecing together the puzzle that was Logan. He tried for another smile. “Well, that’s okay, kiddo. You probably want to rest.”

“Yes. The doctor mentioned that rest will help me to heal,” Logan said.

Patton reached over and gently squeezed Logan’s right shoulder. “I love you, Logan.”

Logan felt a lump in his throat as Patton walked over to his own bed and began shutting down his laptop. He slid off his shoes and set his phone under his pillow. Then he slipped under his covers, not bothering to try and change.

He wished he could say it back. “I love you.” But he wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to the… softness he felt around Patton. The care. He was used to sternness and expectations and clean-cut, hard, not-touchy-feely edges. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know if it was normal to not know how to feel. He felt odd.

But at least it wasn’t an entirely bad feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> full shade @ myself, bc i cried writing this lollll
> 
> Pls let me know what you think. Idk how I feel about it. :)


End file.
